


Before You Leave For Orlais

by ringofdoubt



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fine Orlesian Wine, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Satinalia (Dragon Age), Starkhaven (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23951692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ringofdoubt/pseuds/ringofdoubt
Summary: Sebastian slips out of the ballroom hoping for a moment's peace in the palace gardens. Instead, he meets the youngest son of Lord and Lady Kenric.
Relationships: Sebastian Vael/Bram Kenric
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Before You Leave For Orlais

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt said '“Any M/M pairing with Sebastian … The weirder the better.' and so this is what I came up with...

“I know it’s all in good fun, but it’s just so dreadfully _Orlesian.”_ remarked a Ferelden man Sebastian didn’t recognise. The Vael family always invited a handful of nobles from every corner of Thedas to their annual Satinalia ball – the highlight of Starkhaven’s social season. Part of the festivities involved wearing ridiculous jewel-encrusted masks which the man currently rambling at Sebastian seemed to find distasteful. 

“Hmm, yes.” Sebastian nodded as he knocked back the dregs of his forth glass of champaign of the evening. He wasn’t listening. Instead, he’d been watching the dance floor. It felt as though he’d only been away from court a few days, yet so many of the guests that packed the ballroom were strangers to him.

Even the fashions had changed. His mother had had to pick him out a new suit – black satin with golden embroidery down the lapels and cuffs. His mask was outlined by perfect, pear-drop sapphires and so far at least three dowagers and a duke had commented on how well they matched his eyes. It felt strange to be draped in finery again, after spending most of the last few months hauled up in various taverns in less than affluent parts of Starkhaven. The only remaining visual reminder of his time away from high society was his hair which he’d decided to keep almost long enough to reach his shoulders. His mother had told him it looked _‘_ common’ so for tonight he’d compromised and braided it for the ball. He looked like his old self again – he just wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“ -I mean, it’s one thing to wear a mask as a costume. It’s entirely another in –,”

“I’m dreadfully sorry to cut you off, serah,” Sebastian smiled sweetly, but he was out of practise with small talk and he’d reached the limits of his capacity to feign interest in Ferelden-Orlesian relations. He supplied the first excuse to escape he could think of, “I must greet a friend of mind who just walked in.”

Without waiting for a response, he started to make his way through the crowd – weaving in and out of waltzing couples until he found himself at the entrance to the palace gardens. There appeared to be only few clusters of people outside, no doubt pretending to admire the orchids while they privately cemented their dubious political alliances. The air felt surprisingly humid for the time of year but the cold breeze was still crisp. Some fresh air might be nice.

Just as Sebastian went to step outside,

“Your Highness.” whispered one of the elven servants, “I brought it.”

His first genuine smile of the night spread across Sebastian’s face as the elf handed him a bottle in exchange for the ten silvers. He’d crept down to the kitchens earlier and offered to pay any server they could slip him a bottle of wine during the ball. He’d promised his parents he’d behave like a model son until the last guest had left so he had no intention of getting properly drunk. But neither was he willing to endure his royal duties completely sober. With the bottle held nonchalantly at his side, he stepped outside.

Even in the dim moonlight, Sebastian knew every inch of the palace gardens. He’d spent so much time in them growing up. There was even a cherry tree he’d helped the gardener plant when he was boy, that still stood proudly in the little orchard at the far end of the garden. At least, it had still been there last time he’d looked – which admittedly had been a few years ago. He suddenly felt the urge to go and check on it – and if it happened to next to a secluded, willow-covered arbour where he could sit and drink his wine in peace – that was merely a bonus.

He was relieved when he found it still standing there. He crouched down at the base of the trunk, pushing a few brambles aside until he found them, the clumsy ‘S.V.’ initials he’d carved into the trunk almost twenty years before. His fingers lingered over the marks for a moment before he sat himself down on the marble bench beneath the nearby arbour. He gripped the cork of his wine bottle between his teeth, pulled it out, and spat it into the freshly cut grass. They’d miss him at the party – he might only be the useless third son but he was still a Vael and his absence wouldn’t go unnoticed - but amidst calm, quiet of the orchard, he decided he didn’t much care.

He must have been sitting there for half an hour, absent-mindedly staring up at the stars, when he noticed a silhouette in the distance. Sebastian tensed slightly, half-expecting to be confronted by a thief. Then, the figure stumbled into out into the path of the moonlight and Sebastian found himself face-to-face with a flustered party guest.

“Oh, thank goodness.” the man approached him, “one minute I was admiring a rose bush, the next I was completely lost.” His accent was Starkhaven, but he had his Satinalia mask on so Sebastian couldn’t recognise him. 

The sight of the other man made Sebastian realised he’d been sitting here this whole time with his own mask still on. He reached behind his head and untied it.

“Maker’s breath, you’re – I – “ the stranger stuttered, suddenly aware he was addressing Sebastian Vael, who was apparently every bit as handsome as his reputation suggested. “My apologies, Your Highness, I assure you I wasn’t snooping – er – if you’d be kind enough to point me back in the direction of the ballroom I’ll be on my way.”

Perhaps it was the wine, but Sebastian found the rambling slightly endearing.

“No worries at all, no harm done.” he said, diplomatically, “Forgive me if we’re already acquainted, serah, but I don’t recognise you behind the mask.”

“Oh Maker, how rude of me,” he pulled off his own mask and lowered his head in a slight bow. Sebastian was struck by how young he looked. His eyes were wide and his floppy brown hair had a hint of red in it.

“I am Bram Kenric, Your Highness, youngest son of Lord and Lady Kenric.”

“Ah,” Sebastian exclaimed, “a fellow youngest son. Pleased to meet you, Bram. Tell me – was my parents’ ball so dull that roaming alone through the gardens seemed more appealing?”

“I hope I haven’t offended -,”

“Offended me? Maker, no. What do you think I’m doing out here? It could hardly have been more tedious in there. I’d been cornered by some Ferelden Lord convinced Satinalia masks were an Orlesian conspiracy.”

Bram laughed.

“I bet that was Arl Wulf of West Hills – he cornered me earlier too.”

“West Hills? They do an exquisite brandy.” Sebastian mused, more to himself than Bram really. He’d once witnessed a tavern brawl break out over a dispute over merit of West Hills versus Antivan brandy. The memory was a little hazy but he may have even thrown a few punches himself.

Bram was just standing over him awkwardly now, not sure what to do with himself.

“Sit.” Sebastian patted the space on the bench next to him, “You’re welcome to hide out here with me for a while if you’d like.”

Bram shuffled forwards and sat down. The bench must have been smaller than it seemed because they were now shoulder to shoulder. In an attempt to break the somewhat awkward silence that had fallen, Bram asked,

“Is that what you’re drinking then – brandy?” he nodded to the bottle in Sebastian’s hand.

“No this is, erm -,” he held the bottle up to the light and squinted as he tried to read the label, “It’s a Carnal, 8:69 Blessed. An Orlesian vintage apparently.”

“Orlais – how fitting.” Bram mused to himself.

“Hm?”

“Oh, I’m moving to Orlais in a few days.” he explained, “To the university.”

“Well in that case, you should have a drink.” Sebastian took another swig from the bottle then handed it to Bram, who took an unexpectedly large gulp.

“So, what are you off to study?”

“History.”

“All of it?”

Bram smiled, “Early Chantry history.”

They fell silent again as they passed the bottle back and forth a few times. 

“You know,” Bram began, “Satinalia used to be a day dedicated to Zazikel, the Old God of Chaos. But obviously we don’t worship them anymore – and even if we did, it would be no use worshipping Zazikel since he was killed during the Second Blight - but anyway we don’t and so Satinalia became associated with the moon, Satina, instead -,” His voice trailed off. He always did that, rambled on about facts no one but him found interesting. It was embarrassing how quickly he could make people’s eyes glaze over with disinterest. Except when he looked back at Sebastian, the man didn’t look bored.

“Chaos.” Sebastian mused, “I wonder if that’s why we wear masks then? Anonymity has to be useful for causing as much chaos as possible.”

“I – yes, maybe.”

They found an easy rhythm as they carried on talking until the wine ran dry. Sebastian found the younger man oddly charming, how he kept interrupting himself mid-sentence and going off on obscure conversational tangents. Neither of them noticed that it was getting colder and colder as the night drew in.

“So, tell me -,” Sebastian asked, “how did you manage to escape the usual fates of a youngest son? It’s usually off to the chantry brotherhood or the templars for the likes us.”

Bram grinned and answered in an exaggerated Orlesian accent. “I convinced my father it would be très fashionable to have a son who’s a professor in zee mighty Orlesian Empire.”

“A professor?”

“That’s my plan – eventually.” he sounded slightly embarrassed by the ambition.

“Not just a pretty face then?”

Sebastian felt a small sense triumph when a faint blush appeared on Bram’s cheeks. He flirted casually with most people, but the way it seemed to fluster Bram was endearing. Plus, while Sebastian’s romantic interests tended to lie with women, he was still able to recognise that the man sitting next to him was very handsome.

“What about you – planning to take up the Templar’s sword.”

Sebastian spluttered out a laughed, “Maker, can you even imagine?”

“No, I can’t, especially with you’re reputation -,” as soon as the words left his mouth he wanted the ground to swallow him. Sebastian’s face fell.

“I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean any offence-,”

Sebastian knew his bad reputation was entirely deserved and of his own making, so he wasn’t sure why the mention of it made him recoil. His parents assumed he revelled in the gossip, as though his was actively attempting to bring shame on his own family. That wasn’t true. Sure, he drank too much, he slept around with people he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t as though he enjoyed being a disappointment. The only reason he did any of it was because there was simply nothing else he could do. For as long as he could remember, he’d felt an emptiness inside him that came from being the useless son. If sex and alcohol could alleviate those feelings that gnawed at him, even just for a night, then he was willing to endure the gossip for them. But no, that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.

But Bram didn’t need to be burdened with any of this self-pity.

“Don’t worry about it,” he forced himself to smile, “I imagine I’m the subject of all kinds of salacious rumours.”

“Actually, I’m a few years younger than you, my parents used you as more of a cautionary tale.”

That did make him laugh, “Glad too hear I’m good for something.”

Bram shifted his gaze downward, “All those stories really just served to convince me I was incredibly boring – ‘too well behaved for my own good’ a friend of mine once said.”

“Trust me, misbehaving isn’t always as much fun as it looks.” he bumped his shoulder lightly against Bram’s.

“You say that – but sitting here drinking with you is probably the most scandalous thing I’ve done in my whole life.”

“Really?” Sebastian didn’t mean to sound so surprised.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?”

Bram was only tipsy, but Sebastian was familiar enough with the alcohol-induced depressing turn their conversation was in danger of taking. Thankfully, Sebastian had an idea of how to drastically change the mood with his personal favourite tried-and-tested method of distraction.

“In that case,” he lowered his voice to just above a whisper, “care to make it even more scandalous?”

He held Bram’s gaze as he lent in, only when his face was close enough to feel Bram’s breath on his lips did Sebastian pause giving the other man a chance to pull away. When he didn’t, Sebastian closed the final gap between them, pulling him into a crushing kiss that tasted of Orlesian wine. There was no finesse to it. They were all teeth and tongues - Bram’s inexperience clear. Sebastian moved his hand up cup the side of Bram’s face, gently taking control until they found an easy rhythm. He wrapped his other arm around Bram’s waist, pulling their bodies closer together.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing heavily. Bram shifted on the bench, awkwardly aware of the tightening in his trousers. What his mind couldn’t process was that when he glanced down, he saw Sebastian was in a similar situation. Sebastian smirked when he noticed where Bram was looking.

“Want me to help you with that.” the mischievous grin on Sebastian’s face was hypnotic. Bram wasn’t even sure exactly what he was offering to do, but he knew he needed it. So, he nodded his head and watched in awe as the youngest son of the Starkhaven royal family sank to his knees and gently began to unfasten his belt.

Sebastian knew exactly what to do next – he’d had enough practise over the years. When he took Bram into his mouth, the man let out a whimper that sent a wave of arousal right to Sebastian’s own cock. The thing he enjoyed most about sex was pleasuring whoever he happened to be with. He was fairly certain that no one had ever touched the young Lord Kenric like this before – and he found the thought of that excited him. He increased the pressure slightly which earned him a loud moan from Bram. Sebastian pulled away,

“Shh.” he laughed, “We’re outside.”

The momentary look of horror on Bram’s face told him he had completely forgotten where they were. Sebastian resumed his previous activities and smirked when he saw the other man biting his lip in order to keep quiet. There was something thrilling about doing this right here in the open, in the palace garden. 

Sebastian had both hands running over the tops of Bram’s thighs. And when he started to feel the other man’s muscles tense, Sebastian slowed down and took himself in hand. It was only a few moments before he reached his climax. The sight that pushed Bram over the edge too and he spilled into Sebastian’s mouth.

For a moment they were both still - until they gradually began to move and straighten out their suits in silence before sitting back down next to each other. Sebastian pulled a leaf off the shrub beside them and used it to clean his hand.

Bram had absolutely no idea what the appropriate thing to say was so he settling on blurting out,

“Thank you.”

Sebastian let out a sharp bark of laughter and planted a quick final kiss on him.

“My pleasure. And thank _you_ \- I was dreading tonight – last year’s Satinalia ball mostly involved every one of my parents’ friends taking turns making me feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

A look of sadness flashed across his face just for a second before it vanished again. 

“Well I’m certainly no scholar, but I’m expecting great things from your research, Professor Kenric.”

Sebastian was delighted to see that even after what they’d just done, a simple compliment still enough to leave Bram looking flustered.

“We should probably get back to the party.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian conceded, “in five more minutes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written Sebastian before so I hope this wasn't too awful.  
> I really am rarepair trash these days


End file.
